


Windflower

by noseforsatu (berryargento)



Series: duskdreaming [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 20:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21380005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berryargento/pseuds/noseforsatu
Summary: For so long she buried herself with thorns of doubts and inevitable uncertainties, Lysithea arrived at her own answer.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril/Lysithea von Ordelia
Series: duskdreaming [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1523537
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Windflower

The patrol ended without a hitch. There was no encampment of bandit spotted by the region between Fodlan and Almyra that needed their attention.

It might be as their initial observation sounded: the bandit retreated far to the depths of Almyra, Fodlan Locket will have its momentary peace for a while. The guards needed to stay alert, yes, but the same group of bandit won’t come by again twice. The sheer numbers required to overwhelm the Fodlan Locket, not to mention if Duke Holst is back on duty. Even then, those bandits tried to pillage the fortress – it is unknown whether it is a pure gamble or they simply didn’t have any choices.

When they arrived back at Fodlan Locket, the sky has lost its orange hue. The dark of night started to mingle in, along with the scattering stars, and some colony of birds were taking flight from forests after the presence of the dusk, coloring the sky.

Along the way forth and back, Lysithea didn’t talk with Hilda. Or even having the idea in mind on trying to strike down a conversation. She only heard the guards coming with them taking turns on telling Hilda about a lot of stuffs, mostly about Fodlan Locket and Holst. The conversation, however, didn’t sound like they haven’t seen Hilda for a long while. It is more to things happened over the course of a month or two.

The snow-haired mage concluded to herself that Hilda is indeed back to Goneril territory often, but then she could always be mistaken.

Lysithea focused on not wincing in pain ever so often, or she felt like Hilda will say something about it. Then again, Hilda was checking up on her, albeit wordlessly, as Lysithea felt a stare burned her back. The scars and stab from arrow she experienced are actually something minor, Lysithea could say. She has ever overcome more harrowing experience than this, yet it cannot be denied that it still hurts. While she can always try to heal it with her Faith magic, she opted to reserve her fuel in case the hidden bandit showed up.

None of the bandit showed up eventually, but Lysithea decided to tough it up until they are back to the safe place.

As they came to the fortress, a familiar blue-haired woman approached them. Her façade showed a kind distress, but she looked less gloomy than how Lysithea remembered her to be. Hilda waved at her direction, Lysithea followed suit as they are parting ways from the search team.

“M-Marianne?”

Lysithea called. The adopted daughter of Edmund let out a sigh of relief.

She wondered why, of all people, Marianne is there. Margraviate Edmund located at the border of Alliance and Kingdom that’s close to Fhirdiad. Lysithea ever caught a wind before that Margrave Edmund appealed to the Kingdom at the times of war. However, looking at how fair Marianne is right now, she seemed to be less affected by the fall of Fhirdiad. The family should have managed a lot of backup plan to survive when any sides of Fodlan is falling against the Empire.

“T, Thank goodness that both of you are okay!” she blurted, clasping her hands in a manner of prayer.

Lysithea felt a pat on her shoulder, then Hilda strode past her to make an eye contact with the taller blue-haired woman. There was something unreadable on her eyes, though Hilda carefully masked it with a smile.

“Would you mind taking care of Lys, Marianne? I need to go inside first to report to my brother.”

“Sure.”

Lysithea blinked at the proposition, though she didn’t say anything to object nonetheless. They watched Hilda’s figure disappeared to the south entrance of the fortress before Marianne examined her injured forearm.

The mage groaned aloud.

“It’s a deep cut. Is it … from an arrow?”

“Y-Yes. Um, Marianne. I’d appreciate it if you don’t lift it too much.”

Marianne looked apologetic. She settled the injured arm down gently. She scanned for the scant of blood in Lysithea’s robe.

“The sick bay … is nearby. Let’s go … there first.”

Lysithea replied with a nod and let her be guided by Marianne to the direction of infirmary later, gazing on the setting sun midway until it finally disappeared from the horizon.

* * *

The sick bay was full of the injured soldiers at the moment, but they managed to secure a spot nearby the wardrobe where they stocked most of the medical kits. Despite the amount of people in there, it was not exactly noisy. The injured were trying to get a shut eye, or they were trying not to bother the one who’s resting beside them. It was a right amount of silence, and Lysithea couldn’t appreciate it more with Marianne is the one tending her.

She was still clumsy, though, Lysithea might add, since Marianne toppled down the rack of bandages and unable to put them down in one piece without Lysithea’s help.

“S-Sorry that you’re injured and yet you have to help me…”

Marianne’s shoulder slumped down wearily as they finally took two chairs for them to sit. She prepared a bowl of warm water with a clean towel to wipe blood. A box of bandage and gauze is on the table beside them, ready to be used as wound dressing after Marianne finished with her healing magic.

“It’s okay, really.” Lysithea put up a small smile. “It … reminded me of Golden Deer days.”

As if it is a magic word, it brought a smile to Marianne’s worried face as well. A comfortable silence settled between them, Lysithea could only feel the warmth from the white-green glow coming from Marianne’s spells, grazing to her pierced forearm.

“It was a mess, wasn’t it?”

Lysithea commented. Marianne found herself to laugh merrily.

“Indeed it was …” the blue-haired healer affirmed. “But it was … fun.”

It really is like an old days, though she can’t say Marianne healed her often since Lysithea is dragged to heal others as well after their defeat in Battle of Eagle and Lions.

Golden Deer might not be the brightest class out there, but they put up a great fight; quoted from Seteth.

It was a landslide victory for Black Eagles back then, not like Lysithea minded, nor did she feel humiliated by her defeat. Lysithea remembered how the Deer members were sitting by an empty alley of Garreg Mach while they were taking care of each other, Claude was somewhere giving lip-service to both Dimitri and Edelgard at the moment.

Lysithea laughed when remembering how Raphael and Lorenz both moaned of their wounds (they got it really bad since Claude appointed them to be the shield) while her and Marianne taking turns on healing everyone.

Leonie snickered on Lorenz of his so-called bravado during the battles, and how he failed miserably on trying to cover for Ignatz before Dedue can wipe him out. Lorenz reasoned that it was one of his ‘tactical measure’, in which Raphael dismissed him by ruffling his purple hair, showering a lot of thank yous for covering Ignatz so he can take the strategic Ballista by the center of Gronder Field.

Ignatz interrupted them, saying sorry for not being able to hold on for so long as spearheads from Blue Lion are coming for him, but then Leonie praised him for his bravery.

Leonie said something about Lysithea being a lifesaver with her Reason spells, though Lysithea quickly brush her away before she was too embarrassed to hear how Lorenz and Raphael might praise her. Marianne couldn’t contain her almost nonexistent chuckle at their exchange, while telling Raphael to stay still or not his wound might reopen.

Lysithea remembered Hilda only watched them instead joining the conversation. She was wiped and bummed. Claude took her to face Dimitri while he tried to prick on Edelgard’s defense, turned out Black Eagles swarmed on Hilda too—with Hubert unit, to boot. It was wholly unexpected as they thought the sinister man will stay beside Edelgard.

Ignatz tried to quell Hilda’s pout to no avail, she was truly not amused. Then, Lysithea moved closer to heal her. She suddenly feel that her memory grew fuzzy, she didn’t really recall what happened when she healed Hilda.

“How … uhh, no. What are you doing right now after the war, Marianne?” she asked, after feeling a strange lump of uneasiness in her throat.

“I learned a lot from my father and … inherited the House Edmund …” Marianne paused. “We … established more trade routes from Alliance territory after the war, and … we helped to rebuild Fhirdiad.”

As the affairs of the old Kingdom wasn’t one of her scope of work, Lysithea could say that the news is a discovery for her. She is aware that the part of old capital is healing after the war and Edelgard put the right person in charge, though Lysithea is swamped with her own share of work; with Those Who Slither in the Dark and with Hyrm-Ordelia restoration, to acknowledge each and every region’s progression. She did travel to Fhirdiad for Crest research, but she won’t stay long enough to be aware of other things.

“That means you’re now a famous orator like your father, then?”

Marianne was close to drop the gauze. She was blushing. “E-Eh? N, no! Not even close …!”

“Come on, I know you should be trying your best.”

Marianne then told a bit of her correspondence to Morfis and Almyra for new goods and new agricultural methods. Since there are a lot of main road that’s crumbled during the war, she oversee its rebuilding, before she can accept the new goods from other countries.

“I saw… Leonie once.” Lysithea perked up. “She was doing fine, though she was … in crutches. She said she’ll recover very soon and set up her own journey as mercenary after helping with the road rebuilding …”

“That’s … that’s great! Leonie should be able to be a great mercenary someday. Or maybe becoming a Blade Breaker II,” She sighed in relief. So Leonie survived well after the battle of Great Bridge of Myrddin. Lysithea had feared the worst.

“Then, do you happen to know how Ignatz and Raphael are doing?”

“I ever met with Ignatz once while he’s … painting around the Alleil.”

“Tell me more.”

By the time Marianne finished with healing the stabbed arm, leaving the affected area less painful with a tingling sensation after the magic infusion. Lysithea then listened idly to Marianne’s story about Ignatz and Raphael. Her process might be slow, but it is the blue-haired woman’s way to comfort the wounded. Lysithea ever tried to mimic Marianne once when healing, but she could say she didn’t achieve the same result. Perhaps it is due to the pattern of magic, but Lysithea didn’t inquire until that far.

Apparently after recovered, Ignatz started to pursue his dreams by painting. His knowledge and interest of Church of Seiros and architectures in general brought him not only to be a simple painter, but also an art curator and consultant. Marianne ever met with him once as he painted around The Valley of Torment. Ignatz then told Marianne that he visited Raphael’s family restaurant once and glad to see him in his usual free-spirited personality. He build the restaurant with his sister from ground zero, and it become quite well-known by the area because of their hospitality and their good cuisine.

“And then, I … continued my correspondence with Hilda.”

Lysithea held her breath at the mention, trying to look unfazed. Marianne proceeded with wrapping the injured arm as she kept talking.

“I asked at times where she is now as her letters came from different addresses … for every month. Turned out, she is traveling here and there …”

Marianne said with a small giggle. Lysithea chewed on her lower lips. So the letter exchange was often. Tracing back to that particular day when they were separated after the battle of Derdriu, Hilda never mentioned to her of any letter to use as a means of getting in touch. Their promise lingered in the air back then. It didn’t have a designated time. It didn’t mention of any places. It wasn’t too strong to be called as a promise either. It was indefinite.

Marianne’s story drifted away from her attention as Lysithea realized why she felt somehow disappointed, for a reason unknown to herself. _What is even there to be disappointed about?_

“Then one day … she asked if I want to help her with her artisan school proposal.”

“Artisan school?” No, she doesn’t mean for Marianne to decipher the actual iteration of ‘artisan school’. Gladly, they are on the same page.

“The craft … is more to jewelry and other accessories… Hilda said she’d teach for it. She’s … she’s good.” the blue-haired woman smiled. Lysithea knew that Hilda is not a lazy person. Though, as far as she knew, Hilda’s interest was more to cosmetics. Accessories also counted as something fit with her girly personality, but Lysithea never know that she can actually make one.

Marianne produced something from her pocket, a bangle bracelet with bright golden streaks. “She … gave this to me as an example.”

“Oh, that’s beautiful.” her reply came almost automatic.

Lysithea felt the depth of engraftment with her fingertips. Each stripes of gold was embedded there by hand, making a three golden layer as one bangle. There’s a tiny little dear head on the center, perhaps made separately from the bracelet. Also there’s a neat initial by the inner side of the bangle, the name ‘MARIANNE’ was written there in perfect measurement. It’s a craftsmanship that might be possible only with continuous work on improving, not simply by talent.

The past her might think it is impossible for Hilda to put such effort, then again, she already knew her better.

“How about you, Lysithea? Are you … busy in the Empire? Hilda told me that you … worked there now.”

For that person to bring up her name, it sounded unreal, unexpected. In a way, Lysithea had betrayed the Alliance, but there’s no sign of anger or remorse by Marianne’s face. Or as if someone as gentle as her can show a look of disdain.

Lysithea didn’t want to entail most of the ‘underground’ work she was doing as she hunted Those Who Slither in The Dark, it might be too gruesome to tell. Or about the research of Crest since most of the things are still stamped as confidential.

“Hilda told you that, huh. Well, kind of. We are … recovering Fodlan, slowly.”

Marianne nodded, “Yes, she always … talked about you.”

Yet another thing Lysithea didn’t expect. She couldn’t help but to swallow, hard. “Huh?”

“She’s wondering when … you won’t be busy and what if you came back to Ordelia region at the same time she is back to her home …” the snow-haired mage surely didn’t believe her ears. Now her head is more tingling than how her wounded arm should be. Blood is rushing to her head.

Marianne paused, her head inclined to the side as Lysithea withdrawn her eyes away from the healer.

“Oh, Hilda didn’t speak of it to you …?”

[_What was that warm feeling inside her chest just now?_]

* * *

As Marianne is finished with dressing Lysithea's wound, Lysithea excused herself to go out for some fresh air. She could say that she no longer pay attention to what Marianne tried to tell her, while it is might be that one time when she’s the most talkative ever. Her training to become an orator just like her adoptive father might have succeeded in a lot of ways that she got her confidence, and perhaps there’s another factor that Lysithea wouldn’t dare to guess.

People changes—so is she. Though personally, Lysithea thought that she thinks more of unneeded stuff after her minute realization of things. How she wished she’s in Enbarr right now surrounded by her papers or she’s in Fhirdiad surrounded by Crest research. Mulling over things like this – _these strange palpitations and warmth_ – is not something that’s worth her time.

Her time is running out, just like a sprinkle of sand flowing in the hourglass; she should empty her road of any obstacle, enjoying the now rather than hoping for the future.

Lysithea snorted as she found herself at one of empty side of the east tower terrace. The darkness already enveloped the land, safe from the torches glowing around the fortress ground. It was high up that Lysithea could see the valley and the burned forest, also she could see some soldiers doing the nightly patrol with their Wyverns along the night skyline.

She didn’t fancy the dark, but there’s something more pressing than the darkness or maybe the possibility of ghost showing up. The night air might be her only silence solace. If only she could scream without being deemed as suspicious, she would do so right now.

_Why? Why she couldn’t stop thinking back to that particular day? Why she felt jealous? Is that called a jealousy? Why she is thinking of something trivial, something so fleeting? What happened to her? How could this be happening?_

“… What are you doing here, Lys?”

It was Hilda whom called her.

This time, she no longer wield her Freikugel, but she didn’t seem to take her time to tidy up or change her attire, as her clothes and boots were still dirty. The same grin that Lysithea ever know. The same impatient, tapping feet that Lysithea always studied. The moonlight is reflected on those same garnet eyes, bright and hopeful. Hilda only tilted her head sideways in questioning manner as Lysithea stared at her, wordless.

“You don’t wear your gloves.”

Lysithea pointed on Hilda’s bare hands, then to her gloves that’s dangling on the side of her belt.

“Ah, well. My brother was being funny earlier, he didn’t want to shake my hands unless I remove them.” Hilda sighed. Lysithea remembered Hilda ever mentioned of her brother Holst and his constant overacting and overprotectiveness, and how she was glad that she is away from home while in Officer Academy.

“… What a strange brother.” is what Lysithea can spare as a comment. Hilda complied with a dry chuckle.

“You can say that again.”

A pregnant pause was there as Hilda looked over to the injured arm, a long buzzing sound accompanied it. Hilda then ran her hand to the bandaged forearm. Lysithea didn’t mind, Hilda has been one who’s not shy on getting close to contact with somebody. There was a tinge of nostalgia that Lysithea felt by the simple gesture. Back then in Derdriu, Hilda should be the one who oversees the healer while taking care of the unconscious mage.

“Does it hurt?” Hilda asked slowly.

“Not anymore.” Lysithea shook her head. “You sure took long on talking to your brother while you’re injured herself.”

The snow-haired woman pointed at her torn right stocking and the scar on her thigh. The blood already dried. It might be a minor injury but leaving it as it is will leave a scar.

Hilda shrugged. “It’s nothing, really.”

“But it will leave a scar.” Lysithea voiced her thought. “Let me heal you.”

Her smile was sly. “Oh? That’s rare of you to be concerned~”

Lysithea didn’t hide her groan, “Before I changed my mind.”

“Okay, okay. Please heal me, O Genius Magician.”

“You do have a talent to strike on someone’s nerve, huh?”

She winked, and it was enough to forgive Hilda.

“I’m kidding, Lys.”

Hilda hopped at the hedge, Lysithea followed suit beside her. They can sit on the stone ground actually, but Lysithea followed on Hilda’s whims. She concentrated on her power at her hands, chanting the first syllable of healing magic in a whisper. The mage tried to recreate how Marianne did her healing, yet Lysithea felt something is off. She continued nonetheless, her eyes trained on the wound rather than Hilda, making sure she closed the gap properly.

“This takes me back,” Hilda suddenly said. “To when you healed me after the Battle of Gronder.”

Lysithea didn’t look up. It’s a piece of memory she couldn’t recall. She hummed as an adequate response, letting Hilda to continue.

“You were making the same scary face just like that time.”

“_Hilda._”

Her hiss was fueled with exasperation. As the scar was nowhere complicated nor deep, Lysithea finished in mere minutes. She finally drawn her eyes to see Hilda square on the face. The pinkette was beaming wide, enjoying herself.

“And it feels so warm, too.”

Lysithea wondered whether her eyes were playing tricks on her, or whether Hilda’s cheeks were truly red, albeit momentarily.

The pink-haired woman was quick to change the subject, however, before Lysithea dared herself to point it out.

“So, how’s life treating you at The Capital? Edelgard is slaving you to an endless work?”

“You’re not wrong at that. But it sounded wrong nonetheless. It is of my own volition that I help her.”

“I know, I know,” Hilda dismissed her. “Then, you’re her right hand man now?”

“Of course not, there are Ferdinand and Hubert. They argued constantly about who’s the right hand or the left hand of the Emperor.” The snow-haired woman found herself snickering. “It was stupid, but it is a good refreshment to see after the days of hard work, to be honest.”

She kept on with the conversation, talking about what Ferdinand, Hubert and Edelgard might do in daily basis. The three of them, Lysithea could say, are the one who worked their hardest in the political body. There’s the influence over some counselors when handing in their judgments, like how Edelgard will consult to Byleth often, or asking Manuela and other ministers.

Hilda didn’t interrupt her, or commenting off that her topic is boring. Not for once.

She listened, with a spark of interest in her eyes, also with something unreadable beneath. She laughed, when Lysithea got into the part where Hubert spiked Ferdinand’s tea (with no poison, don’t worry), or when Edelgard and Byleth were alone at the park then Caspar came out of nowhere to interrupt them.

The night started to get chilly, as Lysithea felt shivers running down her spine. She paused, Hilda noticed.

“Are you hungry? There should be warm soup ready at the knight lobby,” Hilda said. She jumped down, then offering her hand so Lysithea can settle down as well.

“And, oh. There are vacant guest rooms that you can use on the west wing. I already told Ferdinand earlier. You should tuck in for the night before heading back.”

Somehow, the thought of getting back to Hyrm territory is nowhere in her head.

“Yeah, thank you.” her answer was bland.

Lysithea held on Hilda’s hand as she descended, feeling the callous on Hilda’s hand. It should be from repeated usage of her axe, though Lysithea hardly seen it as it is hidden beneath her gloves.

The snow-haired mage reminded that time when Hilda continuously repeated that she would stay away from the battlefield. Alas, by Claude’s command, she almost never stay out of the way. She is proficient with her axe, and has the endurance to stay on the battlefield for long, though she tried hard not to show that she’s trying her hardest.

The people whom Hilda asked to do her chores were not, in any way, feeling forced to do so, rather, Hilda has an effective way to make sure people did her whims—‘a strategical measure’, Claude ever said once.

At first, too, Lysithea wondered why and how people can fall easily for Hilda’s tricks. Then, after a long observation, Lysithea understood. Hilda didn’t shy from her method as well. Her dedication of being lazy stemmed from her all-rounded brother, it seems.

Then again, it is hardly the time to retrace the past. She should stop thinking about Hilda.

Wait, since when exactly she thought of the pinkette, who’s now holding her hands as they walked down the path? And since when they stayed on holding hands? Not to mention, Hilda swung their joined hands ever so slightly like it is a plaything. Thankfully, Lysithea offered her right hand instead of her left, or not she would yowl in pain instead relishing on the touch.

“... And, Lys?”

“Hm?”

They stopped walking, just close to the entrance of the fortress. The hall in there was dimmed, save from the small number of torches available. They were alone, the patrolling guards have yet to make their way there. Hilda looked down with a sigh. Her smile fell to a thin, down-turned line.

“Never mind.”

Hilda let go of her hand, striding forward leaving her in pauses, and Lysithea winced inwardly of how she missed the warmth of that hand.

* * *

Lysithea could confess she couldn't get a wink of sleep after the turn of events, and she disliked that she must avoid on turning to her left side as not to burden her wounded arm.

It’s not like she’s not used to sleep at a stranger’s place; during her student days, there would be a time when the class can’t go back yet to Garreg Mach after a fight with a bandit somewhere. They ever slept on the barn, which is quite comfortable and warm with all the stack of hay, save for Raphael’s loud snoring. Also, Lysithea could mention she have ever slept somewhere even worse than a barn, accompanied by rats, dead bodies, and the overpowering stench of blood and sewer. Somewhere that she would not dare to remember, but those days already haunting her too long to simply discard.

The bed was comfortable, also the room situated far from the chaos of the lobby where the off-duty knights started drinking. It was more to an atmosphere of a tavern rather than an uptight fortress in alert. As though the threat has long left them, most of the knights whose not hurt started to toss their glasses of beer up in a manner similar to celebration. Lysithea didn’t stay too long after her bowl of soup. Hilda was once again called by Duke Holst, making no reason for Lysithea to stay and hear the cheers of drunkard.

As short as her sleep fared to be, a dream welcomed her to the scene that she forgot: the moment when she healed Hilda in the past. Magic once said to be a bridge between soul, the reenactment of healing earlier must have triggered her memory. The recollection itself wasn’t complete, but she is able to grasp what had happened.

Hilda was unusually glum that day, guess being served as a meat tank to Hubert wasn’t an amusing ordeal. Marianne was busy with healing others, so Lysithea offered herself. Claude has yet to be back to them, and Lysithea planned on healing the leader as well. Hilda gave Lysithea a mute nod of apprehension, and so the mage started on working. Having Hilda leaned on her back by the monastery walls away from the merry voices of others, Lysithea checked the wounds. It was far worse than simple scars, there was a sign of internal bleeding on her abdominal muscle but Hilda didn’t say a thing. She faced Hubert’s dark magic head on, so it should be unavoidable.

“Say nothing, Lys. Or Marianne will worry about me.”

“I’m worried too, you know.”

“Oh?” Lysithea thought that Hilda will voice a follow-up tease, or saying something whether it is strange for Lysithea to worry, but she didn’t. “If you say so.”

Lysithea looked up to examine Hilda’s expression, finding the glum that overshadowed her expression already gone, replaced by a neutral, but with an exceptionally sweet smile. While maybe Hilda is the one needing reassurance over her injuries and healing rate, Lysithea was the one being reassured. Hilda trusted her, that much Lysithea could say based on her expression alone.

Lysithea would know later that the expression was the same as when Hilda greeted her upon her awakening after the fall of Derdriu.

Then, at the same time, Lysithea felt the same churning sensation in her heart.

She had missed Hilda a lot, something she has yet to accept.

Hilda might be one to tease or jeer, or she may play the role of weak maiden trying to ask for someone’s help, but no, Lysithea understand that she looked to Hilda with a vision of respect.

Lysithea opened her eyes to see the light is filtering on the window, though the air still feel somewhat cold. It shouldn’t be not that far off from the morning.

She reminded that she must go back to Hyrm—there’s no need for her to stay there any longer. The distress call has been answered. The bandits retreated. Lysithea and Ferdinand must do their official jobs and eventually return to their daily assignments at the capital of Enbarr.

That’s how everything should be. Yet, the first time in the morning as she tried to sit on the bed, the one greeting her was a headache and her own sigh.

The conversation she shared with Edelgard was already months ago. Turned out, the said person didn’t have a slight disdain to the world of now—the world that they have shaped. The said person is enjoying her life. The said person is enjoying her life. Like a windflower, she wandered around yet blooms beautifully, against all the odds and ends.

Clenching on the sheets as it is the only solace she had in the room to her sudden outburst of emotions, Lysithea hissed a few inaudible curses to herself before she decided to get up.

It would be a waste to stop the growth, especially if a person with no future like her plucked the flower.

* * *

Lysithea spotted Ferdinand, Hilda and Marianne at one round tables by the lobby. There’s no drunkard or the leftover from last night anywhere, as though the chaos never happened. Some guards on-duty passed by the lobby once or twice.

Save from the table where the three was in, other tables were filled with the knights getting their share of breakfast before going in for their shift. The fortress accommodated its workers well and it shows by the overall morale of the stationed guards. Duke Holst sure is an esteemed Noble.

“We are here, Lys!”

A familiar voice and an energetic wave. Hilda was trying to seek her attention. Lysithea hoped that Hilda didn’t see her trying to ignore the three. She approached them anyway, nodding to Hilda’s call.

“There you are, Lysithea.”

Ferdinand commented as Lysithea finally joined them. They were enjoying a large plate of creamy gratin, and while the two women drank water, Ferdinand picked tea for himself. The three were seemingly discussed about something, but they stopped to look over the snow-haired woman with big greeting smile.

Caspar was not with them, perhaps he’s already off to his destination as the situation is not as pressing as how yesterday was. He was not in hurry, but his duty as Minister of Military Affairs won’t let him to stay put in one place for too long as every stronghold and every areas of conflict should be checked.

“Hilda said to me that the condition is now under control and we can leave for Hyrm later at noon,” Lysithea picked a seat beside Marianne, instead taking Ferdinand’s side.

She wasn’t sure she had an appetite especially after hearing the news, but she grabbed bread from the basket, just to make an alibi, and a scoop of gratin. Ferdinand was absolutely in great mood today as he took his sip on the tea with his most eloquent manner as possible, the one Hubert ever commented as ‘close to displeasing’ in his own dictionary.

“—then, what will you be doing after this, Marianne?” Ferdinand picked up.

Hilda and Marianne looked over to each other.

“I’ll … be back to Edmund territory as my official business here is done.” so Marianne said, hands put together on the table. “I’d love to … visit Enbarr some time later, not only for an official work.”

“I’ll be glad to welcome you to our humble abode, Marianne.” there goes Ferdinand’s lip service. Sooner or later, the Margraviate Edmund will come to the capital with business after the trade routes has been repaired. Lysithea will see Marianne again in some way, that’s for sure.

“And Hilda, let me ask you once more: are you sure you want to tag along with us to Enbarr?”

Lysithea dropped her spoon and went slackjawed.

Huh. _Wait, she what?_

“You’ll stay at Hyrm-Ordelia for another week before going to Enbarr, right? Sure, I don’t mind waiting while coming along.”

Ferdinand knitted his brows, mulling over something, “I can only borrow one horse from Caspar, you’d have to walk.”

“Don’t worry about it, I can bring one of my brother’s Wyvern with me~”

“That’s a relief to hear. I mean, I can let a young maiden walk on her own.”

“Or we can walk together with the horse, the three of us.” Hilda giggled.

“Hmph. Sounds like a generous offer indeed.”

Lysithea couldn’t process the information. She froze. There are a lot of question in her mind but she couldn’t get anything out. True, the condition over Goneril Fortress has stabilized. Duke Holst already recover well from his food poisoning. Hilda doesn’t need to be there anymore, judging by Ferdinand’s leading question. But then, she would be going to Enbarr?

“Why?”

It sounded harsh than Lysithea initially thought it would be, Hilda and Ferdinand turned their attention to her right away. Marianne blinked. The silent woman didn’t speak of anything that might make the situation far worse. The pinkette, eyes widened, only stared on Lysithea in disbelief.

“Are you against this, Lysithea?” Ferdinand asked. “I do agree that she was on the enemy side and all, but—“

“That’s not—what I meant.” Lysithea interjected fast. “Just, why? I thought you’ll never set a foot on Empire’s area before, Hilda.”

There was a sigh of relief came from Hilda, and her expression eased. Lysithea chewed insides of her lips, contemplating whether she had soften the blow or she basically digging her own grave instead.

“I’m going to open a branch of Artisan School there,” Hilda explained. She gave Marianne a once-over, seeing the blue-haired woman affirmed with the nod. “It will go over the official procedures. It won’t be anything smooth sailing even though I’m acquainted with government officials~”

The Artisan School.

The school where Hilda taught the student to make jewelries and other accessories.

The school that’s the pinnacle of Hilda’s dream of wanting to leave by her own rules, funded by Margraviate Edmund.

In hindsight, it should be a happy news. Her business and her dreams are about to expand its wings. Lysithea could congratulate her right here and right now. The Artisan School might boost local industries, as well as abled people with no knowledge of jewelry or no initial skills to wield golds and silvers to create their own signature items to sell or offer as a family heirloom.

Then again, knowing Hilda would set her foot on the capital city of Enbarr where she worked, the seed of doubts within her heart started to overgrown of its thorns and vines.

Hilda will stay at Enbarr for some while. Lysithea can see Hilda often. Lysithea can offer Hilda to tour around the capital. They may have a chance.

A chance for … _what,_ exactly?

What did Lysithea expect? What Lysithea limit herself to do?

What is she expected out of Hilda? What did she wanted to do? What does Lysithea von Ordelia really wished to be?

If only Edelgard is there with them right now, she would label Lysithea as indecisive, reprimanding her that she, of all people, will also have their borrowed time returned to them.

_Why, why she is so—_

“I see. That sounds great.” was a reply that Lysithea could manage after long pause.

Hilda, smiling, offered a handshake.

“I’m looking forward on working and seeing you in Enbarr, then, Lys!”

Out of the formalities, Lysithea accepted the handshake in front of Ferdinand and Marianne. Albeit reluctant, the grip was strong, though not as warm as how they were holding hands on the previous night.

Lysithea blamed on the gloves.

* * *

Ferdinand was eager to ask for the garrison update once again before they can finally leave.

He wanted to make sure that the situation is under control and said to the soldiers stationed there to not hesitate for another distress call if necessary. Ferdinand sure is likeable person, his choice of wordings and his manners have changed ever since the war. His student self was far high-and-mighty. And now, with he is slowly redeeming of the mistake of late Duke Aegir, he easily maintained morale of the people working below his ranks.

All the while, Lysithea is never one to think she can be someone so approachable, yet she didn’t mind conversing with anybody regardless of status and ranks. There are sometimes the gap, but everyone will get used to it eventually, starting from the high rank government figures like them.

They paid a visit to Duke Holst earlier without Hilda (Hilda shook her head, saying that she didn’t need another ounce of her usually overprotective brother) after the brunch. Then, they saw Marianne off. She said something about wanting to write a letter to Lysithea as well, but Lysithea replied to put it off for now as Marianne was busy with road rebuilding.

Ferdinand was still immersed in his exchange with the knights that Lysithea felt she is out of place and decided to leave him until he is done.

Lysithea found herself walking toward the back of the fortress, where they housed the mounted units in a great condition; nice stables with a vast pasture where horses can roam free, and the leftover rubbles for wyverns to lay rest. Hilda said about her waiting there until Ferdinand and Lysithea were finished, so it is the place where Lysithea sought for Hilda.

Hilda was in one of the wyvern nest right beside the horse stable, taking care of a brown-skinned dragon, who’s seem so tame around the pinkette. Without her turning around, Lysithea could imagine her soft smile, not a smile she used to ask people to do her stuff; it’s her sincerest, lovely smile.

“I never really see you took care of wyverns back then.”

Lysithea broke the silence. She moved closer to pet the brown wyvern, seeing that he didn’t mind of the stranger’s touch. The pinkette looked squarely to her, before back at grooming the wyvern’s hair with the soft brush.

“Claude was the eager one back then, saying that he’d take care of others while caring of his own Barbarossa. Of course, I couldn’t stop him.”

“Like you would, not if he’s doing your work.”

“You sure know me so well~”

Hilda mentioned Claude’s white wyvern that he got from Almyra, transported by Nader just before the siege of Derdriu. It was a fine albino, maybe the only one of the species, standing in contrast with others but never prevailed. The wyvern itself just like Claude, one outsider amidst the people of Fodlan. The comparison might one of the consideration as of why Claude cherished Barbarossa so much. Though, when Lysithea ever said it aloud, Claude didn’t want to admit it.

“Do you miss him?” it came out from nowhere, Lysithea could say. But she said it anyway, as she found no leading conversation to speak of.

“Hmm, well, not really?” Hilda said. “I mean, he should be fine. I’ve heard from my brother that he sometimes enjoyed the tea here with Lorenz.”

“He did? I never heard any trace of it.”

“Me neither. It was quite unbelievable, coming from my brother. I guess Claude would come here in secret now and then until Fodlan can fully accept Almyra as an ally.” The pinkette shrugged. “Oh, mind getting him some water, Lys? I’ll finish up soon.”

“Sure.”

Lysithea walked along the barn area until she spotted a tap with an empty pail nearby. She filled right amount of water, not too heavy for her to carry, and came back to Hilda. They let the wyvern drink its share and they waited, leaning their backs on the sturdy fence of the stable.

“That wyvern is actually a gift from my brother,” Hilda said. “But I can’t bring him along on my initial journey as I was low on cash—and I can’t think of a place where I can let him stay when I need to rest.”

“It’s more complicated than a horse, huh.” Lysithea nodded to herself.

“I don’t want to disturb strangers. After all, I’m a model citizen.”

Hilda puffed her chest in exclamation, Lysithea only folded her arms.

“That’s … kind of off-putting it, but … okay, if you say so.”

“You can deny it, really, Lys.” The pinkette laughed dryly at the roundabout but straight jab. They ever had a similar conversation before, Lysithea thought. It was when Lysithea observed Hilda as she asked one of the Monastery’s knight to one of her task.

“By the way, where’s Ferdinand?”

“I left him as he and the guards were discussing about horse and swords … I said to him that we’ll regroup later on the fortress entrance after you got your wyvern.”

“Thoroughly planned as always,” Hilda commented. It could count as a praise, but Lysithea shrugged. “Then, let’s just go. He might be waiting, or I’ll just punch him for making ladies wait.”

“Oh, right, Hilda.”

Lysithea needed to say something, before she forget or her own will failed her to do it.

“Hmm?”

“Would you mind if I … ride along with you?”

* * *

They rejoined Ferdinand as they walked to the fortress front, so much of seeing Hilda punched Ferdinand to make her waiting. No, it’s not like Lysithea is a fan of violence, but she’d like to see the theatrics once in a while. Hilda never punched someone—well, she is never serious when punching Raphael or Claude back during their student days, so Lysithea was pretty curious.

That’s not actually the main attraction here; Lysithea is simply trying to distract herself.

Right after voicing her request, she regretted it, unbearably so. Though, as she already steeled her resolve to it (not because she is afraid of heights, no), she complied after speaking to Ferdinand that she’d join Hilda instead of his horse. Ferdinand scrunched his forehead initially, but he came to sudden realization or something that he was somewhat encouraged Lysithea more, much to her dismay.

Hilda didn’t fly really high. She kept her distance not far from where Ferdinand paced his horse, with an exception as they traversed through forest areas. Both of them already know the way so Lysithea can concentrate on trying hard not to let her own mind control break.

The pinkette pulled the rein, urged the wyvern to soar as they closed in to the forest. Hilda yelled something to Ferdinand, and the orange-haired young man waved to them as a response. He took the horse faster while Hilda practically glides through the high sky.

“You sure not afraid of heights, Lys? You’ve been silent for a while now.”

“I don’t, I’m not Hubert.” She managed.

“Then, you won’t mind if I fly faster, right?” Lysithea could see Hilda was snickering in front of her.

“I won’t, but—_whoa!_ Hey, wait a minute!”

Sadly, Hilda didn’t wait, and Lysithea wounded up to grip on the hem of Hilda’s waist as though it’s the only lifeline available, while tightly shut her eyes. She might want to race Ferdinand out of whims, or simply just want to have Lysithea a taste of supersonic motion fright.

“Hahaha, sorry Lys. Are you okay?”

Lysithea opened her eyes. She didn’t know how many miles a wyvern in top speed can fly for minutes, but they should effectively cut the distance far better than Ferdinand could fare. They already at the end of forest area, now Hilda stopping by one of the stumped trunk. There was no sight of Ferdinand has yet to make it there.

“… I’m okay.”

The question almost felt like expiring, took a while for her to form the simplest of an answer.

“Ferdinand can manage, right? I’ll just fly slowly until he can catch up, waiting here only will make him feel pathetic.”

“Yeah.”

Hilda took the command of the brown-skinned wyvern once again and they started cruising once again. The rush of wind from earlier was no more, replaced with softer blows of afternoon breeze.

Beyond them, the sky already shifted to soft orange hue. There was no sea nearby them, but they are together, safe and sound.

Lysithea didn’t bother to ease her looped arms over Hilda’s waist, sometimes hovering up to press on the taut stomach beneath her string-styled battle dress. Hilda didn’t comment anything about it, even as the rider turned around slightly earlier just to check up on Lysithea. She might be slightly taller than Hilda, as how Lysithea can place her chin on the crown of her pink hair, but she settled by the crook of Hilda’s neck instead while pressing closer.

“… Lys?”

“Let me stay like this for a while.”

There was no answer coming from Hilda but a slight rumble of her hum, yet it was enough.

For the one year and the half, Lysithea arrived at the answer, alas, she is afraid to address it.

She is afraid of the nonexistent future. She is afraid of not be able to defy fate. She is afraid of everything will slip away from her grasp once again.

But to this warmth, this ever-familiar sensation—how she could bring herself to deny?

Her feelings for Hilda is not a mere seeking for a refugee of someone who can protect her. Her feelings for Hilda never stemmed and formed by a simple give and take. Her feelings for Hilda is there not because she’s fall for another handyman for Hilda’s needs.

Lysithea yearns for her. For years. To the see the world without battles. With herself knowing that she won’t be uncertain whether she has a future or not.

And this warmth … it has always been right.

She doesn’t want her future without Hilda in it.


End file.
